Lasagna, Anyone?

No, I'm not kidding--this smells and tastes even better than it appears. Too bad I don't have anyone to share it with.

Looks like the 2010 U.S. Census is over and I'm going to have to sell my place after all. On the other hand, nirvana is nigh because of the food around here; guess it all levels out somehow.

I have finished editing PR for the latest last time and am now spending some time doing the same with PL. The beach is out this weekend because of a stalled front over us threatening us with showers and thunderstorms of all manner; the pool or the mall it is instead.

"Well, We All Make Mistakes,"

is how this was explained to me early Saturday morning, before MacArthur Park was even open, by the short overweight young lady who was working the morning shift as a park ranger (again, left-click each picture twice to view the largest version--this was the north end of the park; note the Lost Tree Village guesthouses on the right in the first photo and the Singer Island condos in the distance on the second). I also speculated that if you had as nice a boat as that, you'd take better care of it; which she rejoined that perhaps on the other hand you'd take it for granted. Ah well--Ahoy there 'Sea Fever' of Wilmington, Delaware: you are parked in the reddest zone of all of South Florida. Move your vehicle post haste or it will be moved for you (note yellow poilce tape at left; the North Palm Beach police mean business--grr).

It was hot at the beach, with surprisingly few honeys out. The breeze was out of the south and all that warm Caribbean air is pushing our normal afternoon thunderstorm activity off the charts. The water was nice and cool but I did not go in, except to get these shots. No jellyfish but I did spy one octopus, about two feet long, washing ashore as if it were dead, behind Lost Tree Village on my way back.

There were many turtle nests about, even in the beach renourishment area; shows what I know.

My bag was taken from me Friday but I still retain my census ID; supposedly all the vacants have to be verified--calling proxies to make sure they indeed spoke with said proxies, et cetera. This was supposed to be an eight week operation and we finished it in four because nobody goofed off; did we talk ourselves out of a job? So far today no call but we'll see.

Skipped the beach Sunday in favor of the pool; I swam for a couple hours but then my next door neighbors showed up. I ignored them for a while but then cut out; it's a good thing Claire gave me PR back--I've found two outright mistakes along with incalculable polishing. At least I have something constructive to do.

A Friendly (But Truncated) Recap

I have been reminded I'm not supposed to comment on anything I learn from being a census enumerator. Trust me; I have learned plenty. But I must keep it to myself.
Highlights: Cheri (pronounced liked Sherry), my new supervisor, is now out of hours for the week. Denis (with one 'n'; the Asisstant Manager of Field Operations for the West Palm Beach office) has given the Word--you will be fired on the spot if you go over forty (40) hours in any given week. I am meeting with her at the Church of Wendy @ 11:15 a.m. Sunday to turn all my work over to her.
I am still alive and life is good; when I was over at Mariner's Key to do an interview last night a single mother stopped me to say hi and that I was totally cute. I thanked her profusely and even started a blank questionnaire on her but she became personally offended when I asked her if she was male or female, even when I and everyone she was eating with explained ad nauseum that I have to ask everyone that silly question. Maybe I'll go see her later today and maybe I won't. Such are the vagaries of life in these United States.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, Claire who works for Prudential in Palm Beach from building 3 in my complex is reading the only hard copy of PR; I also need someone to begin PL as I have been doing much need polishing on it.
I finally figured out that the writing 'contest' was simply Marketing 101 for new members; if you weren't a card-carrying FWA person of course your book stank and you totally needed to join to fix it. It takes me a while sometimes but I eventually figure things out.
Still dark out. Wish I was going to the beach but work prevails. Darn.